


Op Plans, Mission Logs & After Action Errata of Dr. Rodney McKay, PhD, PhD

by esteefee



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Break Up, Drinking, Epistolary, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Humor, M/M, Oblivious Rodney, Post Episode: s05e20 Enemy at the Gate, The Anti-Yenta Peanut Gallery, Unreliable Narrator, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:32:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best lovers are good friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Op Plans, Mission Logs & After Action Errata of Dr. Rodney McKay, PhD, PhD

**Author's Note:**

> Beta, auxiliary brain, and research by [em-kellesvig](http://em-kellesvig.livejournal.com/).
> 
> There is no need for DADT in this 'verse.
> 
> The Radek/Rodney relationship is in the past, so Radek/Rodney shippers please don't get your hopes up. :( However, their friendship is strong in this fic.

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/esteefee/14783436/163693/163693_original.png)

Rodney was working hard on reconfiguring the star drive so they could feasibly lift off from this stupid planet and return to Pegasus, when he slowly became aware of someone calling his name. Had, in fact, been calling his name for a while—it just took him some time to surface when he was deeply into a logic thread, so why this person should sound increasingly annoyed was beyond him—oh. It was Jennifer.

"Yes. Jennifer. What is it?" Sometimes he was a little too blunt, too, when he was just surfacing. Something he should work on, he supposed, when it came to Jennifer, his prospective mate-for-life, except he never knew who he was surfacing for until he was already aware and annoyed. Hmm. A conundrum. "What? Sorry—could you repeat?"

"I said, I need to talk to you," Jennifer said, sounding even more peeved. "I can ask Marie to check you for earwax build-up, you know. That wouldn't break our agreement about not treating you as a patient." Jennifer smirked, and Rodney remembered again that she was very attractive, and he should pay attention. 

"All right, talk; I'm listening." 

"Not here," she said, looking awkward. "Let's take it to your quarters."

They went back to his quarters, Rodney thinking all along the news couldn't be good. No girlfriend asked to talk unless the issue were serious; not that he'd had many girlfriends, only two before Jennifer, and otherwise his scattering of love interests had been either unreciprocated or not interested in talking. The men, especially, weren't the talkative sort, and for some reason those relationships had lasted longer.

Rodney wondered, idly, if there were a connection.

Jennifer said, "So, this shouldn't be weird, but I know sometimes guys do get weird about this sort of thing, so I'm just going to tell you: I've hired a brilliant microbiologist from Harvard to come in assist me on the Hoffan virus. His name is Grant Cockburn. And..." She crossed her arms. "He happens to be my ex-boyfriend from medical school."

Rodney blinked. "From medical school? Don't tell me this is the guy who put the snake in the cadaver."

"You remembered." Jennifer smiled. "Well, it turned out he was trying to get my attention. So I forgave him."

Rodney hated the man already. "So who broke up with whom?"

Jennifer grimaced. "That's just how med school is. When you get a good offer after your residency, you go. If you want to be a doctor, that's your life."

"You never really broke up then."

"Geez, of course we did. Rodney..." Jennifer kissed him once, sweetly. "This was years ago. Grant and I are over, like way over. Okay? I didn't want you feeling weird about it, so I figured I should let you know before he got out here. He's brilliant, and we need him."

"All right. I suppose."

"And you won't get jealous? Because there's no reason." She shook him a little. "You're my guy."

"Yes, I am. I hope I am." Rodney hugged her. "Does this mean we can take a break from talking and you can reassure me with sex?"

Jennifer laughed and kissed him, so that was all right.

:::

"This is absolutely unacceptable! This will not stand," Rodney said.

"Please, Rodney. Do come in," Sheppard said, not looking up from his comic, or magazine, or whatever it was that had his attention. Rodney stomped over and snatched it from his hands.

"Pay attention! This is crucially important!"

"I can see that." Sheppard linked his hands behind his head. "How can I help?"

"It's Jennifer. She's invited her ex to come work on Atlantis."

John's eyebrows formed a question mark.

"Yes, I know. Not good at all. They went to medical school and dissected cadavers together; I don't need to tell you what a bonding experience that is."

John blinked. "Sounds romantic."

"Isn't that what I just said? As soon as this Grant shows up, I have to make it clear he needs to keep his mitts off her."

Sheppard sat up abruptly. "Hang on a sec—his name is 'Grant'?"

"Yes."

"You're screwed all right. _Grants_ ," Sheppard said precisely, "are girl-stealing bastards."

"Oh...oh! Really?" What an odd coincidence. The fervor of mutual hatred warmed Rodney's soul. "Well, that's it, then. You'll help me in my plan?"

"Anything you need, buddy," John assured him. "Anything you need."

:::

Rodney got wrapped up in drive work with the occasional offworld mission and nights with Jennifer on the side, so he pretty much shelved the looming Grant thing until he started to notice he hadn't had any nookie over three days. Three whole days! Jennifer had been busier than usual, he supposed, but then Rodney had as well—the star drive had been reconfigured and he and Radek were working on refining the wormhole drive equations. The primary equation in particular was a real bear.

However, even a finely wrought differential equation could not distract Rodney's libido for too long, so he found himself wandering over to the medical labs, where he had his first encounter with Grant.

Who, it appeared, was very tall, dark haired with a sharply groomed goatee, and had piercing blue eyes and a chiseled jaw. Rodney stood and stared with his mouth slightly agape for far too long before walking over to interrupt Jennifer and her blow-up Tony Stark doll.

"Jennifer. Lunch?" Rodney asked, still staring at the Stark-alike. Jesus, the man's jaw was square enough to draft a bookshelf off it. 

"Rodney!" Jennifer said, "Hey, I want you to meet Grant. Grant, this is my boyfriend, Dr. Rodney McKay."

"How do you do," Rodney said stiffly, holding out his hand. "Not a medical doctor, by the way; strictly science."

Dr. Buttface Chiselchin dimpled as he smiled, his teeth even and perfect and terribly white. He'd probably never drunk a cup of coffee in his life. "Sure. Jennifer's told me all about you, Dr. McKay. Physics and Mechanical Engineering, am I right? Masters in astrophysics?"

"Well, yes," Rodney said. "Correct." He looked over at Jennifer, who was grinning at him encouragingly. Rodney sagged. "Care to join us for lunch?"

Dr. Buttface's smile sharpened a little. "Thank you, but no. Too much data to go through at the moment. Have a swell time." He gave a little wave, somehow contriving to make Rodney's blood pressure rise even further. 

"What is your problem?" Jennifer said after they'd left the lab and were entering the transporter. "Grant's a perfectly nice guy."

Sure, perfectly nice. And evil. Pure, spiteful evil, out to make Rodney look every bit as pale and flabby and pathetic as he was in his inner soul. No wonder Jennifer had warned him before Grant Chiselchin ever showed up. She was just letting Rodney down the easy way. 

"I'm just hungry," Rodney said, and Jennifer seemed to take him at his word.

"Poor baby," she said. "Let's get you some mac and cheese." 

But little did she know: Rodney McKay wasn't going down without a fight.

:::

`OPERATION: TURF OUT CHISELCHIN`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 1`

`Consulted with Sheppard to try to formulate plan. I suggested visiting gym on strict schedule to bench-press my way to a massive physique. If I can't be the man with the unnaturally square jaw, I can be the man with the unnaturally buff biceps. But Sheppard ixnayed my request for a personal set of barbells and instead suggested sit-ups. He obviously has no idea the agony such would cause my lower back and sciatica. I'd rather just do bench-presses. Well, so then he tells me I can't just do three reps of 250 lbs. and call it a day. `

`I told him to get stuffed. And then did fifteen minutes on the stationary bike before dinner.`

:::

Rodney beat Sheppard to the mess after his workout, which meant his was the responsibility of obtaining a second tray and saving a space in line against the bustle of the crowd. He looked around for Jennifer but saw no sign of her; anyway, her schedule hardly ever synced with his at dinner, which was why they always breakfasted together.

Just as he was nearing the front of the line and would have to ditch Sheppard's tray—it was every man for himself on meatloaf night—Sheppard trotted up, his hair wet and a goofy grin on his face.

"Hey, it's meatloaf night."

"I know."

"You saved me a spot."

"Of course, I did." They filled their trays with dishes of meatloaf, green beans, mashed potatoes, and chocolate pie for dessert. 

"Look," John said, nodding toward the corner of the room. 

"Oh, it's Jennifer." Rodney didn't know how he'd missed her; maybe because Grant Chiselchin was sitting opposite her and the man was so inexcusably tall he blotted out the sun.

"C'mon." John led the way. Rodney followed reluctantly. For some reason, he didn't want John to meet Chiselchin. He didn't feel like being compared, that was all. Not that Sheppard was inclined to take Chiselchin's side, despite John's occasional penchant for dating attractive men. John had Rodney's back, after all.

"Hey, Jennifer," John said as he set his tray down. 

"Hey, Colonel. Hi, Rodney."

Rodney passed John to sit next to Jennifer, incidentally giving her a kiss. She nuzzled him back and patted his leg.

"Oh, Colonel, " she said, "I don't think you've met our new microbiologist, Dr. Grant Cockburn. Grant, this is Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, our military commander."

"Dr. _Cockburn_ ," Sheppard said, one side of his mouth curling. He offered his hand for a shake.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Colonel Sheppard," Chiselchin said in a slow drawl. "I've heard so much."

"Oh, yeah?" Sheppard sat down. "I promise it's all lies. I never once sank the city." He turned back toward Rodney and conveyed by lifting his left eyebrow that Rodney needed to do at least 5000 sit-ups before daybreak; the situation was that critical. 

_Really? But he's such a douche,_ Rodney said by frowning hard. 

_Situation FUBAR,_ John transmitted by biting the corner of his lip and looking sideways at Chiselchin, who was blissfully unaware of their conspiracy.

 _Fine,_ Rodney sighed, resigning himself to jogging at least ten minutes before bedtime. 

"So, how goes the work?" John asked Jennifer.

"Frustrating," she said. "We're still trying to determine the complete nucleotide sequence of the probable causative agent of the Hoffan virus."

"Bummer," Sheppard said. "Have you tried using an Etch A Sketch?"

"Ha-ha," Rodney said. "But actually there are tools I could—"

Buttface interrupted. "Are you familiar with how nucleotides work, Colonel?"

Sheppard scratched his jaw with one finger. "Why? You trying to get into my DNA?"

Buttface looked surprised, then intrigued. Rodney frowned. Either Sheppard was being helpful by engaging Chiselchin as a diversionary tactic on Rodney's behalf, or something more sinister was going on.

Had Sheppard gone over to the dark side?

:::

`OPERATION: TURF OUT CHISELCHIN`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 7`

`Last night, Sheppard flew in the GS FLX Titanium Pyrosequencer I ordered as a surprise for Jennifer. I couldn't wait for Jennifer's expression on seeing it. `

`At first she seems surprised to see me waiting for her, then her eyes travel to the sequencer and go really big. Oh, her eyes are very big and brown, and she makes a gleeful sound and can barely speak as she thanks me. I wait for her to run over and shower me with my just due kisses and fawning behavior, but before she can, BUTFFACE CHISELCHIN mentions he and his lab at Hahvard beta tested the GS series, and he looks forward to configuring this one to take advantage of its best features while avoiding all its quirks and bugs. Jennifer claps and puts her hand on his arm. I am incensed. `

`Fuck it. I'm keeping that bar of Toblerone Gold for myself. `

:::

According to the SGC, the Qintari were a generous, peaceful people—until, apparently, someone touched what turned out to be their fertility icon but looked deceptively like an Ancient power converter.

Not that the artifact was harmed in any way, shape, or form by the examination, so why so touchy, Rodney couldn't imagine. People feared knowing the unknowable, he supposed, as he ran for the gate, Sheppard and Ronon on his six o'clock and Teyla in front of him clearing the way.

This definitely counted toward today's workout, Rodney decided, and made a mental note to add this to his mission log. 

Teyla moved to a defensive position at the DHD, while Rodney started dialing. Sheppard arrived at his back a moment later, a reassuring shadow. Just as Rodney hit the button to engage the gate, he heard a thud and John stumbled into him.

"What was that?" Rodney said, sending his IDC as Sheppard pulled away.

"Nothing. Walter just cleared us. Head for the gate," Sheppard said, giving him a tug by his grab strap. 

They all ran for the gate, with what looked like javelins flying around them.

"Coming in hot! Coming in hot!" Rodney yelled, his tablet strap still wrapped tightly around his left wrist as he charged down the ramp and into the SGC gate room. He heard three more reassuring blurps behind him and then the even more comforting sound of the iris closing.

General Landry's voice came over the intercom. "That did not look like a peaceful solution to our naquadah problem, people."

Sheppard interrupted Rodney's formulation of a blistering rebuttal by responding, "No, sir. But I'm sure Teyla will be able to correct the misunderstanding first thing." He sounded just a tiny bit strained.

"Yes, General." Teyla jumped in dutifully. "In fact, before the situation...deteriorated, we learned the Qintari have a strong need for a portable water filtration system and are quite eager to trade."

"Excellent. That's certainly doable," Landry said. "Did you talk terms at all before things went pear-shaped?"

"Not as such." Teyla shot a look at Rodney.

Rodney grimaced. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get back to Atlantis, since the return mission might proceed more smoothly without my assistance."

"Don't forget your med check, Doctor," Landry said chidingly.

"C'mon," Sheppard said under his breath and hustled Rodney along toward the blast doors. "We're getting off easy at this rate. Let's hit the infirmary."

If Sheppard seemed a little eager to visit the infirmary, the reason became obvious as he stripped off his shirt for Dr. Lam and revealed a purpling bruise shaped like the edges of one of the ceramic plates from their vests. Sheppard looked down at his ribs and grimaced. 

"How in the world did you do that to yourself?" Rodney asked. 

"I did have help," Sheppard said. Lam moved in front of him and started prodding his side, which prompted Sheppard to exclaim, "Ouch! Hey..."

"Baby," Ronon said, settling into a chair across from Sheppard's gurney next to Teyla. "Those sticks weren't even tipped with anything. It only counts if they use steel or poison."

"That's charming," Lam said dryly. "Your arm, please, Colonel?"

"But why didn't you just move out of the way?" Rodney said.

John stared at him, his eyebrows squirreling together furiously as he rolled up his sleeve. 

"Yeah—why didn't you?" Ronon said, and Teyla ground her elbow into his ribs. Rodney winced in sympathy; he knew just how pointy Teyla's elbows were.

"Rodney, you were busy dialing the gate," Teyla said, "and perhaps didn't notice that John was defending your position from the approaching spears."

"Oh." Rodney shivered. "That's...well. Um, thank you," he said, heat rushing to his face.

"You're welcome, Buttercup." Oddly, Sheppard seemed embarrassed, too. Or some other emotion was making him sound like that—hoarse and deep. "Am I almost done?" he said to Lam, who had just finished taking his blood and was slapping some tape over crook of his arm.

"Sure. Just take this," she said, dropping an ice pack on his lap, "and ice those ribs while you wait for your test results. Next?" She looked right at Rodney, who sighed and steeled himself for losing more of his precious bodily fluids. He very stoically put up with the snake scan and the needle pokes, but balked a little at how tight she made the pressure cuff, and longed for Carson's deft touch, not that he'd tell the man. He might get complacent. 

After Lam was through with him, Rodney took a seat next to Sheppard, who was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, a crease between his eyebrows and an ice pack resting on his stomach.

"Hey. Sheppard."

"What?"

"I'm going to try to get a flight back to San Francisco this afternoon," Rodney said, pulling out his tablet. "From there it's only a half-hour cab ride to Pillar Point and voilà, the waiting jumper."

Sheppard's eyes cracked open and he frowned. "You're going leave me alone here with Ronon? He's gonna get bored and make me spar with Teal'c."

"I pity you, really, but I'm not going to loiter here where Landry can use his infamous flame breath on me."

Smirking, John shifted slightly in his chair. "Some thanks I get for busting my ribs for you."

"You'll notice gratitude, like fish, starts to smell after three days."

John tilted his head. "I thought that was house guests?"

"They both stink."

John gave him a raspberry in response.

"Very mature." Rodney grinned smugly when he noticed John's hand was no longer clenched so tightly on his ice pack.

Ronon and Teyla joined them soon afterward. Ronon threw himself into a chair beside Rodney and feinted stealing his tablet. Rodney fended him off.

"Quit it. These are very important equations that hopefully will get us home." Although Rodney was making next to no progress on them with Sheppard distracting him.

"When?" Ronon said, and the plaintiveness in his voice momentarily stopped Rodney's thought process. 

"I, too, am curious," Teyla said quietly. John sat up on Rodney's other side, his attention also clearly on Rodney's answer. The combined weight of their expectations threatened to drown him in all-too-dangerous emotions. 

"Soon," he promised. "I...Radek and I, that is, we are working on it daily, constantly. I promise." 

"Cool," John said mildly, dispelling the tension. He sat back, and Teyla and Ronon did the same. Soon John engaged Ronon in a thumb war. A little after that, Lam returned and cleared them all from infirmary purgatory, and Rodney set out for the surface.

"Good luck tomorrow with the Qintari," he said to Sheppard as he was leaving. "Try to avoid getting poked with any pointy sticks."

"Good advice," Sheppard said gravely. "Fly safe."

:::

Rodney felt strangely energized upon his return from Colorado. Despite initially resisting going on a mission here in the Milky Way, in retrospect, he realized he'd missed it. Pointy sticks and all. 

One thing was for sure: Buttface Chiselchin never went on any offworld adventures. No, he stayed quite safe indoors in his hermetically sealed laboratory, with its recycled air and autoclaved instruments. Negatively pressurized for additional security. Sanitized for his protection. 

_Enter genius Dr. Rodney McKay, intergalactic astrophysicist, mechanical engineer, and space explorer!_ Rodney thought as he swept into the mess hall in search of enough coffee to power him through his next wormhole drive session with Radek. And who should be sitting at his favorite table but his favorite girlfriend. Rodney grabbed a large coffee and strolled over to the table to join her and Chiselchin, the both of them huddled over some printouts. Rodney scanned them and recognized the data on viral genomes he'd often seen Jennifer poring over trying to find a similar pathogen to the Hoffan virus. Her absolute focus and persistence were two of the most charming things about her, but Rodney didn't exactly appreciate the fact only inches separated her dark blonde head from Buttface's brunet one. Or the soft chuckle Chiselchin employed when Jennifer nixed his murmured suggestion and slapped the next sheet over his hand.

"I'm back," Rodney stated, tossing his tablet down on the table and almost sending their pages to their floor with the ensuing draft. "Miss me?"

Jennifer looked up, her doe brown eyes narrowing a little as she straightened the stack of paper. "Of course, Rodney. Terribly," she added dryly. "Have you eaten?"

"I ate on the plane."

Jennifer made a face that Rodney readily interpreted but chose to ignore. "Then I guess I'll see you after we're done?"

"I have a brainstorm session with Radek. Your quarters at twenty hundred hours?" 

"That would be fine."

Rodney awkwardly leaned down and kissed her, aware that Buttface had been observing them the whole time like watching a game of Pong. 

"Well, have a good, uh, work session, then," Rodney said, and retreated hastily.

This wouldn’t do at all.

:::

Rodney's session with Radek settled him somewhat, especially when Rodney managed to apply the Fourier technique to their primary equation, thus finding the periodic solution. Well, Radek might've helped. In any event, the new equation would stabilize the drive profile and allow them to travel back to Pegasus using a mere sliver of a percentage of the ZPM's output. It was the breakthrough the IOC had requested through Woolsey as a condition for their return. Rodney couldn't wait to tell Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard. 

But first, he had a date with his girlfriend. A little tête-à-tête, as it were, to sync up their expectations. Also, it had been a while.

He made sure to bring with him the dark chocolate covered coconut drops he'd bought her in the San Francisco Airport—they were a little worse for wear after being melted in the cab ride over and then smashed beneath his laptop, but chocolate was chocolate. 

She answered the door chime right away, which was gratifying; also, the way she dragged him in and kissed him hard, her hand landing on his right butt cheek. It really had been a while.

"I missed you," she said, quite redundantly.

"Me, too," he replied and held up the bag of chocolates between them. "Don't let their appearance put you off; they're quite tasty."

"Are they?" she said slyly.

"Well, I had to make sure," he said. 

"Uh-huh. Thank you, Rodney." She patted him on the arm and dropped the chocolates on her desk. "We can do something interesting with them later, during round two, I guess."

"Oooh, round two." Round two was always interesting. Rodney started to follow her to the bed. "Wait. First, I wanted to ask you something. About Grant. Mr. McChin." 

Jennifer threw him an exasperated look but sat on the edge of the bed. "What about him?"

"It's just...you're spending an inordinate amount of time with him, and the two of you seem awfully...sympatico."

Jennifer took her time answering, crossing her legs and viewing him skeptically. "We did work together for years as lab partners, Rodney."

"Right, but now you're not...do you really need to work so closely? It's kind of hard not to notice the chemistry between you two when you're practically in each other's laps."

Her eyes narrowed, cat-like. "And what about you and Radek? Same deal, there, and you don't hear me complaining."

"Oh, come on! Radek and I were _years_ ago!"

She stared at him until he started to feel uncomfortable. 

"Fine. Okay," he said finally. "I get it."

"You do know there's nothing going on outside our Hoffan research, right?"

The need to ask hovered on Rodney's lips. Still, he could tell a chasm gaped before him, rage shaped and filled with knives. Possibly, there were snakes. "I do," he said; perhaps not with the most confident inflection, but Jennifer smiled and held out her hand.

"So? Let's not waste any more time."

It appeared she'd worn his favorite T-shirt of hers, the one that said, "Be the doctor your mother always wanted you to marry," and was washed to a very thin, almost see-through weave. There was a hole just under her left breast that fascinated him in particular, and he paid close attention to it right now because he could swear the hole had grown larger.

"Rodney." She laughed as he poked his finger inside, and, oh, perhaps that was why it had grown.

She continued to giggle, but then not so much, and at one point declared him a deity, numerous times. Flush with success, Rodney had to admit he might well be, at least in this particular arena, but then he was too busy passing out from a spectacular orgasm.

All in all, he declared the evening a nominal success.

:::

`OPERATION: TURF OUT CHISELCHIN`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 13`

`Yesterday evening a nominal success: gave GIRLFRIEND spectacular orgasms (multiple) and chocolate and solidified my position as Best Boyfriend Ever. However, she continues to work closely with the enemy and will not cede any ground on this issue. Likewise, I have heard rumors that despite having a sleazy, lounge lizard-esque charm that many find attractive, BUTTFACE CHISELCHIN has not taken advantage of any of the many offers afforded him. He is either holding a torch for the GIRLFRIEND or has superhuman restraint. `

`Today, I caught the two of them trading sips of expensive froofy coffee beverages and exclaiming over the quality. THEY SHARED SPIT. `

`There is only one recourse available. When the time is right, I will confront CHISELCHIN. I must take this battle to his ground and defeat him, once and for all, as the soft, undisciplined, impure scientist that he is. `

`There can be only one. `

:::

"Hey, buddy, what's up?" Sheppard said as he handed Rodney his tray.

"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. When did you get back?" Rodney gestured for the scrambled eggs—real eggs!—and bacon, and toast to go with. Sheppard filled his own tray and then joined him at their usual table on the patio. 

"We got back late last night. Teyla did it—got us the full shipment of naquadah in exchange for a bunch of portable water filtration devices and replacement filters. The Qintari need reliable, potable water but are seasonally nomadic, so this was a great deal for them."

"Oh, well. Good for you. And no one got poked?" 

John smirked. 

Rodney made a face. "You know very well what I mean." He started in on his breakfast. Mmm. Bacon.

"Yeah. We're all fine. Teyla talked fast."

"Well, good, good." Rodney didn't dare say it, but he was more than pleased to see Sheppard again, to know Teyla and Ronon were back where they belonged. "Speaking of poking, I've decided I'm going to confront Buttface. Grant."

"You're going to what, now? Confront him with what?" Sheppard was eating the fruit cup. Rodney averted his eyes when he spooned up a slice of tangerine. Cretin. 

"I'm going to confront him with attempting to woo my woman," Rodney said matter-of-factly. "I don't know how it's done in medical circles, but amongst us scientists it would be settled by a think-off. Let the bigger genius win."

Sheppard stared at him, his mouth gaping slightly so his tongue peeked out. Rodney was struck by the not-unusual impulse of wanting to kiss his stupid face, but repressed it per habit. 

"What?" Rodney asked. "How is it done in your military?"

"Rodney, you can't just...she's...okay, maybe I was wrong and all Grants aren't the same. Because this Grant's been around for three weeks now and hasn't made a move, right?"

"Not an _obvious_ move, no, but that's just it! His lack of moving is having a seductive effect because she's...she's not not liking him! She should not like him by now! Because...me! I'm her boyfriend," Rodney said, and he wasn't sure why that was such an important point, but it really was. Somehow.

Sheppard winced and then chewed thoughtfully on a piece of melon. Ewww. Seriously, some days Rodney couldn't understand how the two of them were friends. Then he looked away and saw that John had wrapped his tangerine slices into a napkin; the syrup had made the paper translucent orange.

"I hate to break it to you, buddy, but Jennifer's allowed to have friends. Even ex-boyfriend friends. As long as they aren't fucking or sending sexy emails to each other, it's within the rules."

"Your rules, maybe," Rodney said, indignant. "They already work together all the time! She should, at the very least, be a little more professional and not so cozy." God, it burned his blood to see the two of them, both so young and pretty and his teeth so perfect just like hers. Why hadn't the two of them gone off and gotten married and had perfect pretty doctor babies and, Christ, his brain hurt.

John made a face. "Yeah, I'm not sure you're going to win that one."

"Oh, I'll win. There can be only one," Rodney said, digging into his eggs.

Sheppard snorted into his napkin, but Rodney ignored him. "Anyway," Rodney said through a mouthful of eggs, "I have really important news to tell you guys."

"Oh, yeah?" John lifted his coffee and took a sip. "What's that?"

"Radek and I solved the last wormhole equation. We can go home." 

Rodney couldn't help smiling smugly at John's wide-eyed, "Holy fuck! That's fantastic news! Way to go, McKay."

"Yes, thank you, thank you. Applause, applause." 

"Goddamn, we gotta tell Ronon and Teyla the good news. You brilliant fucker." John reached out and squeezed Rodney's arm.

"Let me eat my breakfast first, if you please," Rodney said, but started shoveling fast, because John was already on the radio, his own breakfast forgotten, a bright smile crinkling his eyes as he spoke. He looked...happy, relieved, excited—Rodney had done that. Rodney looked down at his plate, his chest warming dangerously. 

Bacon curled in a predictable pattern as it cooked due to the meat reducing more rapidly and drawing in the fat like a purse string. Rodney nodded—a sound hypothesis. And a tasty one, too. 

"They're on their way," John said. "They know something's up, but I didn't spill. Thought you'd want to tell 'em."

"Oh, that's—yes. Thanks." One piece of bacon later, Ronon dropped onto the bench next to Rodney and stole a slice of toast. "Barbarian!" Rodney cried. "I was saving that for the last bit of egg."

"Thanks," Ronon said, chewing unrepentantly. 

Teyla sat down next to Sheppard and smiled at Rodney. "John said you have news."

"I did. Not that you deserve it now, dog breath," Rodney said, shoving at Ronon. 

Ronon just stole his coffee and took a swig. 

"Oh! That's uncalled for."

"Needed something to wash it down," Ronon explained. "So, what's the news?"

"I've solved the wormhole drive equation," Rodney said, unable to hold it in any longer. 

"You have? Oh, Rodney." Teyla reached across the table and clutched his hand.

"We're going home?" Ronon slung an arm around him, hugging him hard. 

"Ouch! Hey, watch the goods."

"When's it going to happen?"

Sheppard cut in, grinning at them all. "Woolsey is getting approval. So, a month, I guess? We'll have to re-provision."

"Awesome." Ronon squeezed Rodney again before releasing him. "I knew you could do it," Ronon said gruffly. 

"That's our genius," John said, his eyes unconscionably warm and possessive. 

Rodney cleared his throat and said. "Yes, well. I should go, um. Tell Jennifer the news."

Sheppard raised his eyebrows, Teyla's face echoing the surprise. Rodney wasn’t sure what that was about; of course he'd tell Jennifer. It wasn't like it was top secret information.

"See you later," he said hastily, and left.

:::

After that, his first steps into the Biomedical Research Lab were an icy shock of disappointment. Jennifer and Buttface were pressed close in front of an electron microscope—touching close—and Jennifer was laughing.

Not just any laugh, but her low, throaty, sexy one. The laugh reserved for Rodney alone, in private, in bed. That laugh. The one that without fail gave him an erection.

Except this time, Rodney felt his blood pressure rise instead as he saw Chinny McChin respond by smiling, so very pretty, and at least a corner of Rodney's mind recognized part of his fury was connected to his own inappropriate attraction to Buttface—he was an undeniably gorgeous man, so why shouldn't Jennifer, why shouldn't everyone, oh, God, even Sheppard had—Rodney cut off that train of thought and tried to focus on Jennifer's face.

"Hello, Jennifer," he said, and had to clear his throat, because his voice was fuzzy with anger. "I have news."

"Rodney!" she said, looking pleased to see him. She looked pleased. But nothing more?

"Dr. McKay! We were just talking about you," said Buttface, and didn’t that just take the cake. Then why was Jennifer laughing. Laughing at what? At whom?

"Oh, yeah?" Rodney crossed his arms. "Well, did Jennifer happen to mention that just last month I saved the human race from mass extinction?"

Chiselchin's grin just widened. "Why, no, she didn't say."

Rodney steamed. "Or perhaps she whispered something about my incredible prowess in bed!"

"Rodney!" Jennifer said, rising off her lab stool.

"Multiple Os, my friend. Multiple!" Rodney pointed at Chiselchin, whose pretty mouth had dropped open. "There's more to being a sex god than having a pretty face!" 

Jennifer was already across the room by that point, though, and clasped and twisted Rodney's fingers in a strange grip that hurt—Ow!—and made him follow her along toward the door, so he didn't get to see just how humiliating Buttface found his comeback.

"Where are we—ouch!—going?"

"Shut up, McKay," she said. Not a good sign, when the girlfriend used his last name, so Rodney shut up and meekly followed her to a smaller, empty lab down the hall.

"Now just what the dickens do you call that little scene back there?" she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "Do I need to check you for alien pathogens? A Goa'uld? Did someone drop something heavy on your cranium?"

"Don’t be ridiculous."

"Oh, _I'm_ being ridiculous. After an outburst like that?"

"I just didn't...I didn't like—you didn't have to laugh like that," Rodney said, raising his chin. "With him."

Her left eye twitched. "You didn't like the way I laughed."

He knew that danger sign all too well. "No-no, I love the way you laugh! Love it. Just—that's my laugh. That particular sexy laugh."

"No, I understood," she said, the twitch turning into a full-blown tic. "I got it. You own my laugh. It's yours. I can't use it on my friends without your permission."

Oh, God. Now he'd done it. He twisted his hands together to keep from grabbing at her. "I'm putting this all wrong. This isn't what I meant to say at all. I just—this Grant guy, I don't like him. But I guess it doesn't matter since we're heading back to Pegasus in a few weeks."

"We're what? What are you talking about?"

"We're heading back. I finished the equations."

"When did _that_ happen? You just left!" Jennifer's voice rose.

"Um. Yesterday?"

Her eyes narrowed and her jaw got tighter than a bulldog's. "And you're just now telling me this? We spent the entire night together! And you didn't have the courtesy to tell me we would be leaving for another galaxy soon?"

"Well, I might've told you sooner if you weren't off with that Grant guy! I'll be glad when he's gone."

"What makes you think he won't be coming to Pegasus with us?" she said archly. "He's brilliant, and it's a prestigious position."

"Oh, you must be joking!" Rodney exploded. "No way. I just don't trust him around you."

"You don't trust _him_."

"Right! Right, I don't trust him."

"But you trust me."

Rodney gulped, sensing a trap. "Yes."

Jennifer nodded. "So that’s why you acted like a complete ass in front of a lab full of my co-workers—because you trust me." 

"But...but no—him! I don't trust him."

"What do you think Grant is going to do without my permission, Rodney? In front of a lab full of people?"

Emotions. He was no good when it came to emotions, because logic didn't work, and emotions were too confusing otherwise. "But you gave him my laugh!" he said, and right then he saw something pass across Jennifer's face, something akin to disappointment but deeper, the same look he'd seen on Katie's face, on Raisa's. 

"You know," Jennifer said quietly. "When you invited me to that stupid shindig your friend Tunney was throwing, I really thought it was just an excuse to ask me on a date."

"It was!"

Jennifer pressed her lips together. "But then you couldn't stop bitching about his private jet, and the strawberries and champagne, and you didn't look at me once. I spent a fortune on my dress, hours on my hair, and you wouldn't even look at me. But after that catastrophe, I thought we got over it. I thought we got better."

"We are better," Rodney said fervently, feeling like he was drowning. "We're the best—"

"And now you tell me I can't laugh without your permission. So, I have to wonder—do you really want me, or do you just like having me around?"

"What are you talking about? I like you! I like you a lot!"

He could tell right away it was the wrong answer, because the expression just deepened, and tears filled her eyes.

"It's not about that. I know you like me. I like you too, Rodney. But I sure the heck don't belong to you. And I guess we're done." 

"Wha-what?"

A tear spilled over and fell down her cheek. "I made a mistake," Jennifer said. "I'm sorry."

"No-no-no, you can't, not just because I said some stupid stuff—I say stupid things all the time! It's practically my raison d'être. Please, no, Jennifer."

But the sad expression didn't lift even for a second. She just wiped the tears away and kissed his cheek, saying, "This has nothing to do with Grant. Remember that. I love you, Rodney."

"Oh, right. Right. Sure," Rodney said bitterly. "You love me so much you're breaking up with me."

"Exactly." Jennifer scrubbed at her eyes tiredly. "Because I want you to love all of me."

She left him then, even though he had plenty of rebuttals. She didn't know what she was talking about. He liked plenty of other things about her, not just her laugh. He liked her hair, her body, her pretty brown eyes, and her smart brain. She was the perfect girlfriend.

Just, apparently, not for him.

:::

`OPERATION: TURF OUT CHISELCHIN`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY ~~14~~ 15`

`Operative reporting a complete failure. Also It's 4am and am completely drrnk. Sheppard supplied the good stuf — he had saved it back the squid-headed bastard — and didn't tell me. My braan hurts. Jennifer dumped me. I'm bad. Bad bad bad. Sheppard said to blame it on Grant and not think about it. But Jennifer said it's not Grant it's her. Except it's me. I'm bad. Sheppard said no, it's not you, buddy. You're a good schmoe. Then he gave me another ber and I believed him, especially when he put the bowl next to my bed for throw-ups. Going to sleep now. Sleep. SLeeeep. `

`Wake me when we're back in Pegasus. `

`MISSION CONTROL OUT. `

:::

"Buck up," Ronon said, offering him something green and frothy. Rodney didn't want to know what was in Ronon's miracle hangover cure; all he knew was it tasted disgusting. Also, he had to hold his nose when he drank it because it smelled like an armpit stuffed with tuna fish.

It worked great, though. Shortly, his brain started functioning again, and breakfast didn't sound like a torture scenario. He accepted the bowl of oatmeal Teyla brought him and sprinkled it with some of the brown sugar and raisins Sheppard slid over to him.

"Thanks," he mumbled to his team when he felt more human.

"What are you up to today?" Sheppard said.

"Zelenka."

"Ah. You and Radek have one of your speed dates?"

"What?" Rodney stared at Sheppard, who mimed talking while waving his hands around.

"I do not look like that," Rodney said.

"Well, I was doing Radek, but pretty much," John said.

"You two are funny," Ronon said. "Better than High Theater on Sateda."

"It's important work," Rodney said, uncomfortably reminded of Jennifer's argument that he and Radek had chemistry. Well, only so much as Punch and Judy did, apparently. 

"I'd better get to work," Rodney said. "Thirty days and counting."

"Thirty days," Teyla said, and Ronon smacked Rodney on the arm.

Sheppard just smiled.

:::

`OPERATION: TURF OUT CHISELCHIN`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 16`

`Just received word BUTTFACE will not be joining us in Pegasus because — this is to laugh, oh the irony — HE IS IN A RELATIONSHIP. Yes, he has a fiancée back in Cambridge, and I have not had nearly enough beers for this. Bring me another, Sheppard. `

`Sheppard is ~~enabling~~ supporting me in my attempt to blot out any memory synapses associated with CHISELCHIN and his efforts in brekking up my relationship with Jennifer even though he was already in a relaatonship and was just dicking around. ITS ALL HIS FAULT. Sheppard agrees. Because he is on my side in all things. Except when racing remote control cars, when he is a BIG CHEATING CHEATER with pointy elbows that rival Teyla's. `

`Don't tell him I said that since he controls the beer supply. `

`MISSION CONTROL OUT. `

:::

"Dr. Nadir," Rodney said. "Your paper on chemical and steric constraints in inorganic solids was...riveting." 

"Thank you," Nadir said, bowing his head.

"How would you feel about analyzing the soil on alien planets?"

Nadir's eyes bulged. "What? I..."

"Yes? No? Tell you what: give this NDA a read-through and let me know what you think." He pushed the packet across the table and yelled toward the door. "Next!"

:::

The Ramada Inn at Colorado Springs where they were doing the intake interviews had a conference room with cigarette butt colored rugs, plastic water pitchers, and vinyl conference tables. Rodney could practically smell the self-help seminar scheduled to occur later.

But both the SGC and the IOA were unwilling to allow any candidates access to the base before they'd signed the NDA and were on-board for the program, so here Rodney sat, in a poorly padded conference chair, interviewing scientist after scientist, with nothing but PowerBars and bad hotel coffee to sustain him.

It did, however, give him some time for reflection between battering cheap doctorates with his brilliant, scathing wit. Not that Rodney was one for deep pondering of his own psyche— _please_ —but it occurred to him lately he'd been feeling miserable a lot whenever he was around Grant and Jennifer. As much as he missed Jennifer, he didn't miss feeling like that. So perhaps he should just endeavor to stay away and devote his time to Radek and his team and getting Atlantis home.

Step one was decimating this stack of applicants, dividing them into the strong and the weak, the useful and the pitiful, and the survivors and the fallen.

It shouldn't take him more than a day or three.

:::

`OPERATION: TURF OUT CHISELCHIN`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 20`

`Sheppard came to help me pack up materials and mobilize the surviving recruits back to the complex. I caught him flirting with our new biostatistician, Dr. Shaniqua Brassert, and perhaps with more bitterness than usual, called him Kirk. `

`He growled at me, "You can knock that shit off, McKay. It got old five years ago." `

`~~I haven't seen him so mad at me since~~ He failed to bring me beer tonight even though we passed a major milestone in our preparation for the return. I'm stuck drinking Radek's bottom drawer Midori straight out of the bottle. `

`This is the worst. `

`MISSION CONTROL OUT. `

:::

"Can you believe this? They want me to present at the Conference on Astrophysics and Space Science. I don't have time for this—we only have 26 days until we take off." And yet, the honor of being a speaker at the conference was stupendous. No way were they inviting deGrasse Tyson, Mr. Popular Science, to speak a keynote. And if Nye showed up, Rodney would have a field day.

"Yes, you are too busy by far," Radek said, voice thick with irony. "I can't imagine you will make time for something so frivolous and demeaning."

"Oh, shut up." Rodney rubbed his chin. "But I'll have to take someone with me or it's a waste." He felt a momentary urge to ask Jennifer, immediately followed by a sinking feeling. In that direction lay self-immolation followed by heavy drinking. "But whom should I ask?"

"It's none of my business," Radek said, "but have you considered a life of celibacy? In this way you could be safe from dooming all your friends to hearing your pitiful cries of woe when you destroy yet another relationship." 

"Very funny."

Radek adjusted his glasses. "I'm not making a joke. It's very sad to see."

"I think you can handle the devastation."

"Perhaps." Radek sniffed. "But you are fortunate some of your exes even like you."

Rodney sneered. "Oh, I feel terribly fortunate. Especially when you try to steal more than your fair share of credit on my papers."

" _Your_ papers! [Di do hajzlu.]()"

Rodney grinned to himself. Getting Radek to swear meant two points on the board.

"Seriously, though: whom should I invite? I only have a couple of days to find someone. And then they'll have to buy an outfit, and get their hair cut, and such."

Radek shook his head, still grumbling under his breath.

"What? I know that look. You have an idea." 

"No, I do not. You don't have any friends. No one who moves heavy objects for you, and brings us coffee when we work too many hours in the lab and can't make it to the mess, or saves a place for you in line at meals."

"What are you—oh! Oh, right. Great idea, thanks."

"You thank me for nothing. I gave you no ideas for dates," Radek said. "Now go away."

"Right." Poor Radek. Still pining after all these years.

:::

`OPERATION: GEEKFEST`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 22`

`I have 4 days to lure Sheppard into joining me at the Conference on Astrophysics. He is the perfect candidate since, as ever, he is unattached, and he is obviously devoted to me despite our recent contretemps. Also, he is hotter than blazes. Unfortunately, there will be zero support from Zelenka; the poor man is nursing a secret tendresse for me. It's understandable. Perhaps I can get assistance from Ronon and Teyla. `

`I need to establish: Sheppard's favorite aftershave (poss. Aqua Velva), favorite color (black?), and whether or not he likes flavored lube. Also, lay in supply of Toblerone Gold. `

`Must also arrange to get his service dress uniform dry-cleaned.`

`MISSION CONTROL OUT. `

:::

"Teyla! Hey, Teyla," Rodney said, jogging after her as she left the dojo. "Can I speak to you for a second?"

"Of course, Rodney."

"I need your help on a special project."

"Anything." Her eyes brightened, her jaw firming.

"I'm going to ask Sheppard to go to the conference with me," he said. "As a date, I mean."

"Oh." Her enthusiasm appeared to take a dive. "Well, that's...forgive me, Rodney, but didn't you recently part ways with Jennifer?"

Rodney waved his hand. "Old news. I'm forging a new path. Onward!"

"Ah. I see." She paused and bit her lip. "And what does John have to say about this?"

"Oh, I haven't mentioned it to him yet."

She smiled briefly. "Good luck to you."

"But wait—you haven't heard what I need help on."

"Right. Please, continue."

"Do you happen to know his favorite aftershave? Oh! And you bring him candles sometimes—what are his favorite?"

"Rodney, I hardly think showering him with—" She halted abruptly and gave him a pained smile. "He likes skora nut candles. And that blue aftershave. I don't know where he acquires it."

"Aqua Velva! I knew it. Thanks, Teyla."

"Don't mention it."

Rodney's next stop was the marine training room, where they kept the practice dummies and violent-looking exercise equipment. Ronon was there pummeling a half-dozen marines while assorted air force personnel stood by looking queasy. Rodney assumed they were new trainees and felt a brief burst of pity for them.

He waited until Ronon took a break and went for his water bottle before going over to him and cautiously tapping him on his sweaty bicep.

"Hey, Ronon. Got a minute?"

Ronon nodded toward the corner. "Only a minute. These guys need a lot of work."

"Just a couple of quick questions for a project I'm working on."

"Shoot."

"Okay. First one is, what's John's favorite color. Do you know?"

Ronon gave Rodney a strange look. "No idea. What's this about?"

Rodney rushed on. "Second question: what's his favorite thing to do?"

"That's easy: he likes that stupid game with the clubs. Golf. He's trying to get me to go play it on a field instead of off the balcony. He says it will be more fun that way but I don't think so."

"Golf! Of course! Thank you."

Rodney turned to leave but Ronon grabbed his arm with a grip like a vise. "What's this about, McKay?"

"Nothing. I'm just trying to soften him up for something." Rodney tried to look innocent.

Ronon stared at him evenly.

"Okay, okay—I want him to come with me to the Conference on Astrophysics and Space Science. As my date."

Ronon scowled. "You shouldn't share sheets with a teammate—it's against Satedan tradition."

"Oh, please—we're not Satedan military, and I'm not military at all!"

"Still. Could cause problems—jealousy and stuff about assignments."

Rodney sniffed. "Considering how long my relationships last, I don't imagine it will."

"No, that's true."

"Hey!"

"Anyway, what does Sheppard say?" Ronon said. 

"He doesn't know yet."

Ronon laughed. And laughed.

"Shut up, you big jerk," Rodney said, and punched him in the arm before ducking out.

He was icing his knuckles later in the mess when Sheppard walked in. He saw Rodney and gave him a heart-stopping smile—why? Why did the man have to be so damned charming? Wait a minute—why was he wasting that charm on Rodney? Rodney didn't have any tava beans to trade. And today was Wednesday, pre-packaged sandwich day, so there was no big line so no waiting. Rodney got up as Sheppard approached and joined him at the sandwich table.

"Mmm, turkey," Sheppard said, just as he always did, and Rodney shook his head and got turkey, too. If he didn't finish his sandwich, the other half was sure to disappear into Sheppard's maw, just like some of Sheppard's Oreos might just migrate off his own tray to Rodney's. 

Theirs was an equal partnership.

"I hear you spent this morning terrifying your new recruits," Rodney said.

"Oh, yeah? Where'd you hear that?"

Rodney jerked his jaw at the table next to them, where a bunch of young marines were eating lunch and throwing nervous looks over their shoulders.

"I hope these big tough marines don't think some footage of a Wraith autopsy followed by a short clip of their commanding officer having the life sucked out of him is too terrifying," Sheppard said loudly.

"No, sir!" "No, sir!"

"Good," John said smugly.

"Oh, you're awful," Rodney said admiringly.

"I try." 

"How goes the provisioning?"

"Good. We got all our ordnance in today. Lorne's got the new guys counting magazines."

"I've got my guys counting beakers."

"It's good to be the king." 

They grinned at each other.

"You gonna finish that sandwich?" Sheppard said.

Rodney wordlessly pushed it across to Sheppard's tray, stealing some Oreos on the return trip. Suddenly a big, brown hand reached down and snatched a couple from his hoard.

"Hey!"

Ronon grinned down at him with a chocolate smile. Sheppard chuckled.

"Thief! Pilferer!"

Apparently unconcerned, Ronon shoved the second one in his mouth.

Rodney appealed to Sheppard. "As team leader, you should intervene—"

"Oh, no. Oh, no. I'm not getting between you two and food," Sheppard said, rising from his seat. 

"But he's a cookie bandit!"

"And I'm sure someday he'll pay for his terrible crime." Sheppard took a step away. 

"Hmm." 

"Later, McKay."

"Later, McKay," Ronon echoed, and dragged Sheppard off, probably to pummel him with a big stick or something equally unhealthy.

Well, anyway, Rodney had a paper to work on, and a mission to plan.

:::

`OPERATION: GEEKFEST`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 23`

`Spent all afternoon arguing with Zelenka about how to disguise the fact we acquired all the black hole data for our paper using Ancient sensor device. But we don't want to present on breakthroughs in goddamm telescope sensor sensitivity, we want to report our findings on black holes. What to do? Then of all people, Sam Carter stopped by and offered to let us use her ESA resource at the ISS who's read in. Apparently he falsifies data collection for her ALL THE TIME ratfink bastatd. `

`This melon liqueur is really growing on me. I've put in for a case to bring back to Pegauses. `

`On to second problem: must figure out a way to approach Sheppard without looking too desperate. But how? Man knows all my tricks. OTOH he did take a javelin for me so would two days being ogled by supernerds be that much worse? `

`MISSION CONTROL OUT`

:::

"Dr. McKay," Woolsey said. "Thank you for joining me."

"Yes, well, what is it, Mr. Woolsey? I have a lot to accomplish in a very short time."

"Ah, yes. I've heard—you're attending a conference of some kind." Woolsey made a sour face.

"The Conference on Astrophysics and Space Science, yes. I've been asked to be a speaker," Rodney said proudly.

"And where, exactly, does this conference take place, Doctor?" Woolsey said, leaning back and sipping his tea.

"Oh, China, I believe. Beijing." 

"Beijing," Woolsey said flatly. "And when do you plan to leave?"

Rodney cleared his throat. "In two days."

"Two days. So, basically, twenty days before launch, our Chief Science Officer intends to fly to China for an indiscriminate amount of time when he should be preparing this city to travel to another galaxy. Do I have that right?"

Rodney balked for a moment before replying. "I assure you, the star drive is ready, and Zelenka is prepared to handle any other minor details. The conference is just two days. I don't think you realize what an honor I've been extended by the conference organizers—"

"Oh, I don't know. I think it's quite an honor to be offered the position of Chief Science Officer of the City of Atlantis. Should we ask someone else?"

Well, hell. "Of course not." Not that they would, but he appreciated Woolsey's point. It was oddly familiar. "It won't look good, but I can withdraw from the conference."

Woolsey crossed his legs and gave Rodney a long, considering look. "I don't think that will be necessary, as long as you remember in future your primary responsibility and to whom you are accountable." He took another sip of his tea. "Also, I want you to take some security with you—a marine, perhaps."

"Well, I was going to take Sheppard."

Woolsey almost spilled his tea. "Colonel Sheppard didn't mention it to me."

"Oh, I haven't asked him yet."

Woolsey relaxed. "You might find he's busy preparing to take us all back to Pegasus."

Rodney waved that away. "He'll make time."

"Well. If not Sheppard, then make sure to take a marine along for your safety and my peace of mind."

"Very well." Relieved, Rodney left while he still could.

:::

`OPERATION: GEEKFEST`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 24`

`Spent the morning getting my hide tanned by Woolsey and the rest of the day working on paper with Radek. Sent in final proof just under deadline. Have yet to ask John to go to conference w/me. Tomorrow last chance. Have no angle. There is no time to go golfing while in Beijing for the conference. Green piss I'm drinking is providing no inspiration.`

`Left Sheppard Aqua Velva as gift but he appears to think the Quartermaster acquired it for him. `

`I've waited six years to ask the man and every time something has gotten in the way, be it lying priestesss who turn out to be Ascended Ancients or this one time he mutated into something blue and unpleasant.`

`Now is the time. `

`Maybe I should just tell him the truth. Lay it out. What's wrong with the trutth? Other than it seems to bother people when I say it. `

`Except John doesn't seem to mind as much. `

`Fine. Mission truth tell is a goo. `

`MISSION CONTROL OUT. `

:::

Rodney found John just as he was getting out of a meeting with some of his captains.

"Can I get a word?" Rodney said as the captains shuffled past, all eyeballing him curiously. 

"What's up?" John said as Rodney pushed him back into the conference room and closed the door. 

"What's your schedule like for the weekend?"

"Crazy. We're twenty-one days out. Now ask me something you don't know."

"Do you want to go to a conference in Beijing with me?" Rodney clasped his hands together. 

Sheppard stared at him and pursed his lips. "Do I want to what, now? In China?"

"The conference is on astronomy, aerospace engineering and space-related interdisciplinary fields. There'll be plenty of Air Force people there so you'll fit right in. More importantly, any papers will be published by the _Journal of Applied Mathematics and Physics._ Zelenka and I just finished polishing one up."

"Did you eat Skittles for breakfast again?" 

Obviously it was time for the truth. "It's um. I wanted you to come. With me. As a date-like. Together." _Whew._ He'd done it.

"A date?" Sheppard licked his lips.

"Yes. A date. Is that so hard to believe?" Dear lord, his hands were sweating.

John stared at him. "Seriously, this is your idea of making a move? Inviting me to a science conference? Didn't you do that with Jennifer?"

"Yes," Rodney said. "And it worked, didn't it?" 

John shook his head, an unwilling smile curling his lips. "You've got your own style, McKay, no doubt about it." 

"Does this mean you'll come?"

"Well, I can't leave you roaming around East Asia on your own." John's smile had taken over his eyes, making them squint. 

Rodney's heart skipped at least two beats. "Brilliant. This means I'll have a paper in the journal, be a keynote speaker, and have an attractive, um, partner at the conference. Tyson won't know what hit him!" 

John raised his eyebrows. "Aw, Rodney. You're such a sweet talker." 

"Besides—Woolsey said I needed a bodyguard."

"You mean you need a babysitter."

"Fine. Whatever. As long as you're coming."

"Sure, if you're paying. I've never been to Beijing." 

:::

`OPERATION: NOOKIE`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 25`

`Returned to Sheppard his dress uniform; he looked surprised for some reason and said "Gee, thanks." He insisted on having Marine Staff Sergeant Quirós accompany us. I don't know what dangers Sheppard expects to arise from a group of astrophysics nerds other than that of computational errors. But, whatever. `

`Sheppard defied expectation and showed up at beam out unshaven and in a pair of washed-out blue jeans, a crumpled linen shirt (white), and with his hair, as usual, defying all norms of gravity.`

`When I asked him what happened to his uniform, he claimed he couldn't get it out of the bag. `

`Still, despite not cleaning up, he looked good. Fine. He looked very fine. Good enough to make Nye sneer over cocktails that the private sector must pay enough for all sorts of amenities. I'd have taken umbrage on Sheppard's behalf but he looked like he considered it a compliment. He put his arm around me and told Nye, "This one's a freebie." `

`After the terrifically bad hors d'oeuvres and the opening plenary session, Sheppard left Quirós to watch me and then disappeared to attend his own lecture track, claiming he'd promised to take notes for Radek! He said he'd try to make it back in time for my speech but he wasn't sure. That was it for the rest of the afternoon. No more John, just endless puffer fish spouting outdated hypotheses while I had to bite the ends of my fingers to keep from correcting them (well, most of the time, anyway). I wish Radek were here so we could mock them in their ignorance. `

`Then finally came time for my — well Radek and my — lecture. I destroyed them with my acumen. When I looked up midway through, I saw Sheppard had returned and was recording me. I possibly waxed on a little past time and we didn’t have as much for the Q&A, but really, the subject was so fascinating, can I be blamed? `

`Afterward, I was hounded by hoards of baby-faced astrophysicists all wanting my email address so they might beg my mentorship on their papers. Ha! Take that, Nye, whom I saw lurking at the back of the crowd trying to poach off my reflected glamor. `

`John was there, too, fending back the hoards. He promised to email my lecture video to my admirers. He also emailed a copy back to Radek. Then we came back to our hotel suite after the conference dinner, which was chicken. Ugh. How? We're in Beijing, and conference chicken is still conference chicken. `

`In the suite, alone with John and high on my success, I planned to put into effect my patented technique (passionate stare, stroke lower lip with thumb, and in for the KISS), and that's where I ran into the following snag: `

`SHEPPARD: The aeronautics lecture was really cool. Thanks for bringing me along. `

`ME: Thanks for coming. And for coming to my lecture. And for recording my lecture. [PAUSE. PASSIONATE STARE. REACH FOR SHEPPARD.] `

`SHEPPARD: Whoa. Hang on. This is weird. `

`ME: What? What's weird? Do I have bok choi in my teeth? `

`SHEPPARD: Nah. It's just — Are you sure you're ready for this? `

`ME: Ready? Of course! What? Yes! `

`SHEPPARD: Hmm. 'Cause, a couple of weeks ago you were with Jennifer, and now you're acting roofied and making eyes at me. I mean, I know people aren't tube socks. `

`ME [PANICKING]: What the hell are you talking about? `

`SHEPPARD: You know — one size fits all. I was hoping for...but it's weird. And I don't want to take advantage. `

`ME: OH MY GOD. I'm so confused. `

`SHEPPARD: Yeah. I get that. Let's call it a night, okay? Good night, buddy. `

`ME: What the hell. `

`That's when I pulled out the little hotel bottle of whiskey. Just the one little one. Because at this rate I'm in danger of becoming an alcoholic. `

:::

That night, Rodney had a dream epiphany featuring Sheppard on a private jet wearing a tux and sucking on a ripe strawberry while Rodney droned in pure engine noise about Tunney being a know-nothing, idea-thieving bastard, until John leaped to his feet and ran to the emergency exit, a parachute strapped to his back.

"So long, Rodney," he said, and jumped from the plane, which immediately went into a tailspin.

Rodney awoke sweaty and discontented.

Sheppard showed up at breakfast looking sheepish. Maybe he was a little gun-shy last night; it was understandable. Rodney accepted the unspoken apology in the form of a Starbucks coffee snuck in from outside the conference center. Then Sheppard showed Rodney his schedule; he wasn't on Rodney's track for any of today's sessions, either.

"No," Rodney said. "Just, no." He was maybe still a tiny bit hung over, but his dream had made his path obvious. "This is our date. I invited you here because I wanted to be with you. I'll join you on your panels."

John looked up from his breakfast. "Yeah?"

"Yes. Of course. Of course, I will." Perhaps Rodney hadn't made his intentions clear enough the day before, because the smile he got in return was sunny and relieved. 

"Let me see your schedule again," Rodney said, reaching for it, and Sheppard licked his lower lip in an entirely too sexy way. How could Rodney have been so stupid? He should have done this yesterday.

"Well," John said, "first I'm going to the one on 'Extrasolar Planets,' then the one on planets' ionospheres and magnetospheres. Then we can have lunch — if you don't like the conference food, we can go out." John touched Rodney's wrist.

"Yes, good. Good. What about after lunch?"

"Um, something called 'Interstellar Terrestrial Relations'—I thought that would be a hoot—and then 'Life Sciences As Related to Space.' Not sure what that one's about, but it sounds interesting. One of the Canadian astronauts is speaking."

Rodney rolled his eyes but bit his tongue. "I'm in." 

"Cool. Wow, okay. You want more coffee?" John brushed his fingers as he reached for Rodney's paper cup.

"Yes, please." While John went to get them coffee, Rodney looked around to see if Nye was around. No luck. It would have been satisfying to see his reaction to all of John's little secret touches. Except those were just for him and not for Nye to see. He didn't want Nye ogling John like he had been the day before. 

John returned with their two coffees, and they headed over to the first session. Quirós, Rodney noticed, had vanished somewhere. Rodney didn't ask. Sheppard yawned a lot during the exoplanet lecture but recorded pieces of it on his phone and emailed the clips to someone, then asked questions during Q&A that were texted to him. "For Miko," he said the first time, and, "for Simpson," the second. Rodney wasn't sure when Sheppard had cozied up to his physicists, but he had to admit he was a little jealous. Not that Rodney needed anyone to ask questions for him. He could do that himself, and did, speaking into the mic in a strident tone that made Sheppard laugh in his hand. Rodney returned to his chair and sat close just to feel John's warm, jean-clad leg pressed against his. 

"Go easy on the poor gal," John whispered into Rodney's ear, making him shiver. "She hasn't been exploring two different galaxies the last six years."

"I can't help it if I have high standards," Rodney said. 

John tilted his head and considered him. "You do, do you?"

"What? Yes," Rodney said. "Yes, I do," he said more slowly, seeing the look John was giving him. "Keep that in mind."

"Me, too, you know," John said, his voice almost too low for Rodney to hear over the lecturer's whining. 

"Well, I...of course, I knew that," Rodney said uncertainly, and John smiled warmly at him, not sarcastic at all. "I did," Rodney said more confidently. "That's why you joined me here, after all."

John nodded slowly, then winked. "And because Radek, Miko, and Simpson told me I'd be crazy to miss it." 

"Radek! That little fink." 

"But mainly because of you," John confessed, his ears turning red. "And also, something happened to me. You know, when we were, uh..." He looked around. "When that big thing happened earlier this month," he said in a low voice.

"I can't believe we're talking about this. But I really can't believe you picked here and now to talk about this. In a roomful of astrophysicists."

"Guess you've got a point. Later then." Sheppard sat back. Rodney did the same and pretended to pay attention to Dr. Sulankhe, who blathered on and on about planetary systems and the likelihood of habitability as if she had the faintest. Rodney sighed heavily. John yawned and started doodling a Ferris wheel is his notebook.

It felt just like a staff meeting at home.

:::

`OPERATION: NOOKIE — THE BIG KAHUNA`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 26`

`Sneaking this entry in during final plenary session. Sheppard has asked me out to dinner; said it's no fair we haven't seen anything of Beijing since we got beamed into a bamboo grove behind the hotel. He's taking me to a rooftop restaurant. Who knows what will happen afterward. All I know is he's wearing the Aqua Velva I gave him and I've been smelling it all afternoon and it's driving me crazy. `

`Who knew? `

`I've learned a lot in the past few weeks. Like this shaky feeling in my limbs is not alcohol detox but rather the belief I've finally figured out why I'm happy around John and why I'm not happy when I'm not, and the concept is absolutely terrifying. But at least I'm not taking anything for granted anymore. `

`Are you there, Cthulhu? It's me, Meredith. `

`Please give me this. `

:::

"Mmm," Sheppard said, sipping his beer with apparent satisfaction. The label was called "Monkey's Fist." Rodney had ordered a "jade cocktail" instead. Unsurprisingly, it was made with Midori. He asked them to omit the lime or bitters to avoid killing him.

"Very bad luck, yes," he said to the waiter, and accepted the drink. "But thank you."

"Now _this_ is a date," Sheppard said. He waved at the view from the terrace.

"My invitation to the conference is what got us here!"

"Yeah, but...two days, McKay. That's a hell of a lot of science. Although, the astronaut's lecture was pretty cool. I always wanted to be an astronaut. All that research they're doing into long-term weightlessness..." John sighed. "Man, I wish I could lend them a puddlejumper to get to and from the international space station."

"Yes. I know what you mean." It was times like this that Rodney really regretted the barrier between the SGC and greater academia. "And you are an astronaut, if you think about it."

John's lips twitched. "Thanks."

"And the conference was not a bad date!"

"Jeez. Fine. But I'd rather have a day trip to Weimea or a weekend at the Cape. Make a note, would you?" John crinkled a smile at him, and Rodney's breath stopped. John was talking about the future. About them in the future. 

"I will," Rodney said. "Of course." 

"You better," John said, and started in on his black rice and cochinillo. "I guess you really meant to ask me out, after all," he said after a bit. "You've been sending me some pretty mixed signals, McKay."

"What on earth do you—okay. Fine." Rodney couldn't pretend he didn't understand. "I was confused about some things."

"Like inviting me to the conference and then trying to dress me like a Barbie doll."

"I just thought you might not have time to think of it," Rodney said blithely. 

"Mmm-hmm." 

"I've recently found some clarity thanks to, believe it or not, that Grant person."

John laughed a little. "I get that. Sure enough, my Grant showed me what I was doing wrong with Nance when it was too late."

Rodney cleared his throat and looked around. They were the first diners and wouldn't be overheard. "You were saying, before, about how the Wraith invasion got you thinking."

"Oh, I'll need another beer or two before I get there," John said, raising his hand to the bar at the back. "But I'll get there, I promise."

"All right." Rodney frowned and worked on his paella. "Why did we come to a Spanish restaurant in Beijing, anyway?"

"The staff sergeant recommended it."

"Where did he run off to?"

"I sent him home. Told him I'd watch out for you today." John smiled to himself. Rodney felt too warm, suddenly, and took off his sports coat. 

John was wearing a suit jacket over a wrinkled black button-down shirt. Usually he looked on the scruffy side of attractive, but when Rodney took a closer look he realized Sheppard seemed almost clean-shaven. Almost.

"Did you shave?" Rodney said incredulously.

John rubbed his cheek. "Maybe," he said, defensive. 

"Oh." Rodney's face got even hotter. He knew what that was about. Kissing and beard burn and stuff. Rodney's shadow never got that terribly scratchy but John's must be like a burr grinder. Rodney was curious to find out. "Well, you look good."

"Thanks." John's beer arrived and he took a healthy swig before pressing the bottle to his cheek. 

Rodney smiled wistfully. "I didn't even know you could blush."

"Take it to your grave," John said.

"So, why say yes now?" Rodney couldn't help asking. "I've known you six years."

John rolled his eyes. "Persistent fucker, aren't you?"

"It's made me the man I am today."

"It's saved our lives," John said, pointing his beer at Rodney.

"Well, that, too," Rodney said, almost humbly. 

A long silence gaped between them. Rodney was content for once to let it hang, the pressure growing almost uncomfortable, until John abruptly blurted, "I was alone. I was alone every damned time."

Rodney made an interrogatory noise but didn't interrupt.

John stared just below Rodney's chin while he continued, his words halted and clipped. "There were so many times I was about to give everything up for the people I cared about, for my country, for the city—you name it—but for this last trip, I wasn't alone, Rodney." John's voice went hoarse, and he took a sip of his beer. "You were there. I was holding the detonator, and I looked at you, and you nodded, and Ronon, Teyla, Lorne, they were all there. I wasn't going to die alone this time."

"Jesus, John."

John smiled painfully. "Then our Hail Mary came. Atlantis came for us, Rodney. Sure, it came to save Earth, but really, it came for us, to save us. Me." 

Rodney brushed his hand over his eyes. "That's...I can't."

John reached out and clasped his wrist with cold fingers. "You wanted to know what's different, okay? That's what made me decide we could finally try. I don't have to be alone anymore." He let go and sat back. "Sorry. Too much."

"No. No. I just—years I've wanted this. Years and years. And this is what it takes? I have to go on a suicide run for you to figure out how I felt?"

"No! Jesus. That's not what I'm talking about at all." John scraped at his beer bottle with his thumb. "I knew I would get this shit wrong. Talking never works."

"Then what?" 

"Of course, I didn't want you to die. Christ, no, Rodney. It just meant something, having you guys there. 'Cause it's always just been me. Alone. And then Atlantis came, as if the city were saying..." 

"Oh." Rodney understood that much. More than once, the city had told him he was worth it. Maybe not the entire city, but when the whole team plus his sister and Jennifer all piled into a jumper and flew straight into Wraith territory simply to say goodbye to him, it put things into perspective. "Of course," he said. "I get it."

"You get it?"

"Yes."

John smiled down at his beer. "Coolness."

"Oh, my God. Are you twelve?"

"Going on. So, does this mean you're in?"

"Well, I don't know—are you sure you're ready for this?"

John smirked. "Funny. Yeah, sorry for being a jerk. Will you come home with me?" 

"We're staying in the same suite, you moron."

"That makes it easy, then." John said, his mouth smiling, but his eyes dark. Rodney swallowed and signaled for the check.

"Jackass."

"Yup." Sheppard reached out and stole Rodney's cocktail to drink down the last sip. He made a face. "What in hell is that? Melon?"

Rodney grinned. At last! At last he had found something his teammates weren't willing to filch. He waited for John to pay the bill and then they walked the few blocks back to the Great Wall Sheraton, both of them quiet. 

"Checkout is at noon," Rodney said as they got into the elevator.

"I've already notified the _Daedalus_." John hovered close, nudging Rodney toward the corner of the elevator.

"Would you stop it? You'll get us kicked out. Where will we go then? I'm not doing this in a bamboo grove." But Rodney couldn't deny the nibbling along his ear was a serious turn-on. 

"Fine." John leaned back against the wall as the elevator whisked them up to the 88th floor. "I'm dying, though."

"Well, don't die here. We have a perfectly nice suite just down the hall." 

"I'm not going to make it. Go on without me," John said, his eyes closed and a half-smile on his lips.

Rodney wanted to kiss those lips. For a long damned time, he'd resisted the temptation, though they had hovered before him, smirking, smiling, frowning, laughing, and generally pissing him off in the most righteous manner. 

"I thought it was clear," Rodney said as the elevator binged, "we're going down together." He grabbed Sheppard by his belt and dragged him toward the opening doors. An elderly Chinese lady moved to the side and nodded her head. Rodney nodded back and shifted his grip to John's arm. As soon as the elevator doors closed behind them, John started laughing.

"What?" Rodney said, grumbling. 

"I'm just wondering if that poor woman deserved to see you acting like a caveman."

"We gave her a thrill," Rodney said dismissively. "God knows I deserve to get you into bed after six years of flirting."

"Oh, yeah?" Sheppard grinned as he let Rodney pull him toward their suite. "Is that what you called it when you crashed my RC car off the dock and into the ocean?"

"You were in clear violation of the lane line!"

Sheppard laughed like a donkey and orbited around him to start dragging Rodney by his jacket lapels. "Or when you started cheating at The Game?"

"Ha! Cheating!"

"Um, maybe we'd better not get into it." John pulled the card key out of his pocket. "Not if we want to get laid tonight."

"Anyway, you were the flirt in this scenario," Rodney said, following him inside and shutting the door. "I was just the helpless recipient."

"Uh-huh." John moved in on him and loomed. There was no other word for it. "Poor, helpless McKay." He put one hand on Rodney's chest and pushed him against the wall by the door.

"Yes, well," Rodney said, heart beating hard in his throat, and then John was kissing him, finally, finally. Those full, curved lips he'd literally seen in his dreams were sliding against his, a faint prickle of stubble making Rodney draw in a breath and clench his fingers on John's biceps.

"Waited so long," John murmured, his hands coming up to frame Rodney's face. "Jesus, Rodney," John said, looking amazed. Rodney leaned in and flicked his tongue out, making John groan and shove him harder against the wall, kissing him and kissing him, until John pulled back suddenly and smirked, his mouth reddened and wet, and went down to his knees.

"Oh, you aren't serious," Rodney said faintly. "There's a perfectly decent bed right over there." 

"No more waiting." John was already unfastening Rodney's pants—zip, flip, yank!—and his strong, calloused hand gripped Rodney's dick a few moments later. 

"Have it your way," Rodney said, as John stroked him harder and then—oh, God—the fantasies he'd had over the years about that mouth, warm, wet, sucking him, couldn't compare to the reality of John, of this John, all the things Rodney understood about John contained in this moment of John, doing this for him now. Rodney almost came at the first flick of tongue, at the way John's left hand seemed to tighten convulsively on Rodney's hip whenever Rodney moaned. Which was a lot, frankly. Rodney couldn't seem to help it. John kept mouthing at the crown of Rodney's cock with his wet, curvy lips. And every time John went down, Rodney's head thunked back against the wall, and incoherent noises spilled from Rodney's throat. Then John went for Rodney's balls, teasing them gently with his palm, stroking beneath them with his fingers, and that wasn't fair. Rodney made a sound not unlike a dying moose, he was pretty sure, and started to come. His knees trembled, going weak on him, but John held him up, propped him against the wall as he finished him off with his warm hand.

"Yeah, Rodney." John looked incredibly pleased with himself. "That was awesome."

"Oh, my God," Rodney said, bending down to kiss his sticky mouth. John released him and got to his feet with more than a few crackling sounds, Rodney noticed. "Teach you a lesson," he said. "Bed right there!" He started to pull up his pants then decided to get undressed instead.

John chuckled and walked toward the bed, taking off his jacket as he went and tossing it onto the chair they'd been using as a coat rack, then hauling off his shirt. He had a very nice back; Rodney liked the way it sloped into his butt, which also was decent—now that Rodney wasn't afraid to look, he allowed that it was nicely compact and round and he wouldn't mind getting his hands on it as soon as John finished shoving off his jeans and underwear. 

"Get over here," John said, kneeling onto the bed. Obviously, one blowjob had gone to his head if he thought he could order Rodney McKay around. Well, Rodney would set him straight on that score. This was going to be fun. Rodney walked over to the bed and joined him.

"Lie down," he said, planting a hand on John's sternum and shoving. 

John fell to his back with a sound of surprise. "Mouthy."

"I'll show you mouthy," Rodney said, leaning over him to put teeth marks in his right nipple. 

John yelped and subsided, staring down. "All right," he said. "You got me." His mouth lifted in a smile, and he rubbed his thumb over Rodney's lower lip.

"That's my move," Rodney whispered. "You stole my move."

"So, take it away," John said, his eyes going soft. "I'm all yours."

Oh, man. Who knew beneath Sheppard's fake charm there was...this? Rodney would have to recalculate everything he knew about the man. Later. When his heart started beating again.

"All right," Rodney said through the lump in his throat. "Sit back and enjoy." 

And John did, and Rodney did—he explored John's body with his fingers, with his tongue—he nibbled the join of John's thigh to groin, and the trail of muscle to the top of his hip, until John shivered and swore and begged for his mouth. And then Rodney fit John's thick cock into his mouth and stroked his shaft with his fingers.

"Your hands, Christ, your hands," John said. Rodney didn't know how the man was still coherent but he set to work on fixing it by sucking harder and fingering his tight bud of an asshole. John startled and bucked and started coming, pulsing in Rodney's mouth. Rodney swallowed him down then pulled away to behold his blissed-out look with fond superiority. 

"Now, that is how it's done," Rodney said, and John waved a weak hand in acknowledgement. Rodney rolled out of bed to take a piss—he was half-hard again and it was awkward, but he got it done and washed his hands. When he returned, John was half-asleep but yanked up the sheet for him and curled around him. "What am I, your plush toy?"

"Maybe," John said, sounding amused and happy. He gave Rodney an exaggerated squeeze before pulling away. "You want to be?"

He sounded both facetious and not. Rodney rolled over to look at him. 

"Well, if by that do you mean do I want to play furry games where we dress up like tigers and screw each other in our suits, I have to warn you, I had a girlfriend in graduate school and just...no. Those suits get very smelly very quickly."

It was amusing to watch the expressions of horror and furtive fascination slipping over Sheppard's face. "What? No! I—"

"On the other hand," Rodney interrupted heavily, "if by that were you, obliquely, in your pathetic way, asking me to make this a regular thing, then yes. Of course." 

"Yeah?" John's face brightened. Really, it was so easy to make him happy. Rodney was just startled to realize he could be the source. 

"Of course, yes," Rodney said. "Why else would I seduce you?"

"Oh, _you_ seduced _me_? Pull the other one."

"Yes, I seduced you. Don't even try to lie about it. Years from now when we're telling the story, I want you to get it right."

There was that smile again. Honestly. 

"Fine. You seduced me," John said. "But I asked you out. On a real date. None of this science conference bullshit."

"A conference is a real date!"

"Here we go again. Look, Martha's Vineyard! North Beach! A weekend at Long Island Sound! Those are dates, buddy."

Well, finally, Rodney had to kiss him just to shut him up.

That was what he recorded in the log, anyway.

:::

Epilog

`OPERATION: BLUE SKIES`

`MISSION REPORT LOG ENTRY: DAY 46`

`Must report on lift off from Earth, which occurred at 18:00 Zulu today (was supposed to occur at 16:00 but the Pilot in question was too busy schtupping the Chief Scientist and Navigator, so launch time got pushed back until after, and then there were showers and more kissing and romantic babble that will not be recorded for Posterity due to possible extreme mushiness). `

`For last three weeks have been enjoying almost unprecedented "honeymoon" period with John by engaging in incendiary sexual escapades. Have used up all the strawberry-flavored lube. I blame the nuclear escalation that commenced at the get-go. Also the unfortunate misunderstanding for a seeming need for secrecy about our relationship. My misunderstanding or his? Both, perhaps. I certainly don't care if the haters who disapprove of us know, although I believe he thought I was worried about repercussions from the nerds. I was laboring under a similar misapprehension about the team, until today. `

`After months of labor and preparation, we strapped down the breakables and prepared to lift off. I was in the chair room next to John, with Teyla, Ronon, and Lorne standing by; Zelenka was in the ZPM room. `

`The clock ticked down. Director Woolsey gave the go. Zelenka reported on the ZPM — all was green. John looked at me and I gave the nod for him to start the countdown. `

`"Wait," he said. "One more thing." He turned to me and whispered, "How about a kiss for luck?" `

`A man would have to be stupid to refuse such a request. I kissed him, a little off the mark, but good and hard. I looked up, and Lorne and Ronon were grinning, Teyla shaking her head but smiling as she reported the reason for the delay back to Radek. Maybe they were over their reservations about our relationship. But who cared. John was mine. `

`"Counting down," John said, grinning wide, and then he launched us into space. `

 

..................................  
February 18, 2016  
San Francisco, CA

**Author's Note:**

> Or, the story where Rodney gets dumped and goes to China. 
> 
> Note: citric acid does not cause an immune response, i.e., it's not dangerous for people with citrus allergies. Rodney can eat Skittles. \o/


End file.
